Young Writers Society

*** This is the prologue to a new project I'm working on. I kind of hope I can finish this one... Anyway, any comments/criticism would be much appreciated! ***

Cloaked in the chilling black of the night sky, the scaled beast beats his gigantic winds in silence. His talons scrape against the castle tower as his golden eyes peer into the sole window.

A bed enormous enough for him is stationed in the center, resting against one wall. Two unmoving lumps break the smooth surface of the mammoth blanket, unaware of the creature which shifts until resembling a human. The man slips through the window and sets his eyes on the wooden crib in the corner.

Careful not to wake the mountains on the bed, he stalks towards the corner, bending the shadows to cover him. He stops just before the crib, glancing back at the snoring beings. The coast is clear, he assures himself, calmly gazing into the cradle. A small face about the size of his hand, chubby around the cheekbones, peers up at him, eyes closed as it dreams peacefully of cloudless blue skies and lush green meadows. The man almost smiles, reminded of his own son at that age.

He scoops up the infant into his arms and hurries back to the window, sneaking out as silent as he had slipped in. A young boy, no older than seven, is in wait. The man gently hands the baby over, advising the boy to keep his head propped up in his elbow. Then he shifts, becoming the scaled beast he preferred to be. Cradling the tiny creature, the boy climbs atop his father’s back and sits strategically in between the winds, tying the leather strap over his lap as instructed prior to the sun’s setting.

With one flap of his wings, the beat is soaring, his talons ripping away from the tower with a faint scratching sound. The young boy smiles dreamily, the crisp night air caressing his face as his father flew. He wishes to have wings like that when he’s grown so he could be as agile, as quick.

His eyes set on the bundle in his arms, studying the face shielded from wind. Before he can make the promises he had thought up nights prior, his father lands, shifts, and brings his tiny feet to the ground, stealing the baby back in his thick, muscular arms. The boy pouts, trailing behind as the man leads him back to their home; a cave deep in the forest, hidden from slayers and knights of the kingdom.

Safe.

Inside, there lay three nests made out of nettles from trees at the top of the mountain above, each big enough for a dragon to sleep in. The man sets the infant in the smallest, closest to the largest. Still pouting, the boy plops in the other, closer to the entrance, and watches as his father rewraps the bundle.

“What’s his name?” He asks, desperate for attention.

“Prince Reuben.” His father gruffly responds, a tint of annoyance in his voice.

The boy smiles, repeating the name to feel how smoothly it rolled off the tongue. “I like that one.”

His father hushes him, curling up in his own nest as the scaled beast once again. Tired, he dares to shut his eyes, facing the direction of the baby. They snap back open moments later, his elegantly crafted ears perking up at the sound of movement. His son had sneaked across the cavern to peek at the child. The father sighs and the boy turns to him, scurrying back to his own nest, knowing exactly what the soft grunt meant.

Inside the father’s mind, he begins plotting. The boy will grow up as one of us. He will learn strength, courage, and bravery- something every leader must know. He shall replace the corrupted King, claiming power to the crown, and become the puppet in my most brilliant scheme Travia has ever known.

He smiles, prying one eye open to gaze at the infant.

Yes, he muses, he will be my revenge.

The little boy sits up in his nest, stealing a glance at his father. He wonders why again. Why had his father replaced him? Why was a prince in his old nest? Why wouldn’t his father let him get a better look at the baby?

But most importantly…why did he get the feeling it would not go according to plan?